


The Best Medicine

by Yamx



Series: Deal-Series [13]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-01
Updated: 2011-08-01
Packaged: 2017-10-22 02:16:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/232613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yamx/pseuds/Yamx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which there is absolutely nothing wrong with the Doctor. At all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Best Medicine

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Wintercompanions Summer/Winter Holidays 3 Fest](http://wintercompanion.livejournal.com/169366.html) and originally posted [here](http://wintercompanion.livejournal.com/163533.html).

Jack isn't too surprised when he wakes up alone in his bed. True, the Doctor said last night that he'd come and join him later – and Jack was rather looking forward to being woken up for a round or two of middle-of-the-night sex – but it's happened before: the Doctor probably got distracted by some fiddly bit of maintenance and lost track of time. For a Time Lord, he does that surprisingly often. No doubt he'll turn up at breakfast and ply Jack with coffee and freshly-made poached eggs, which is as close as he ever gets to apologizing.

Only he doesn't. When Jack gets to the kitchen, it's empty. He puts the kettle on and starts toasting a stack of bread while assembling a selection of spreads and cereals on the table. By the time he's done, Rose has stumbled in, bleary-eyed and looking for caffeine. She acknowledges his efforts with a grunt and hides behind a large mug of tea. Rose isn't much of a conversationalist before breakfast.

"Himself not here?" she mumbles after the first few sips.

Jack shakes his head. "Haven't seen him since last night."

Rose's eyes widen. "Are you two having a spat?" When Jack and the Doctor row, Rose spends the day in the garden room or at the pool, saying – correctly – that she's not their bloody referee.

"Not that I know of..." Jack replies, a twinge of unease starting to build in his stomach. The Doctor can be sensitive about weird things sometimes. Has Jack said or done something that might have pissed him off? But no, their conversation before bed was perfectly pleasant. All right, Jack stole a slobbery good-night kiss while the Doctor was half-stuck under the console, and got sent off to bed with an irritated swat, but surely that was all in fun? He couldn't have misread his lover that badly.

Could he?

Jack jumps up. Rose startles at the abrupt movement. "I'll check what he's up to," he says, keeping his tone unconcerned. "There's more toast in the basket."

He's out the door before Rose can mumble thanks.

By the time he reaches the console room, he's half-convinced himself that he's offended the Doctor somehow and is mentally rehearsing both an apology and a telling-off, depending.

He takes a deep breath, steps into the control room – and freezes.

One of the panels is open, bits and bobs are strewn all over the grating, and the toolbox is toppled over on the stairs. And no Doctor.

"Oh, sweetie, what happened?" Jack hurries to the console, careful not to step on any of the TARDIS's components. He hears a thin, metallic sound almost like a whine. "Why'd he leave you like this?" He strokes the controls.

"Hon, I promise I'll help you clean up, but I need to find him first. Can you tell me where he is?"

A floor plan pops up on the nearest screen, with a blinking red dot in its center. "His room? At this time of day?" Jack bites his lip. "That's not good."

He pops the open panel shut to at least give the TARDIS a modicum of dignity and hurries back to the corridors. When he passes the kitchen, Rose joins him, fully awake and worried now. "What's going on?"

"Don't know. I think something's wrong with him."

The reach the Doctor's bedroom door. Jack knocks. While his own bedroom has become pretty much "theirs," the Doctor's is still somewhat foreign territory. He's been in it, they've even had sex in it occasionally, but he's never once slept there. It doesn't feel right to just barge in, no matter how worried he is.

Until there's no reply on the second knock.

He opens the door and strides inside. Rose hangs back, probably feeling even less comfortable intruding than he does.

The Doctor's curled up in the middle of the bed, blanket clutched tightly around himself, shivering miserably. Jack spots a med scanner scrolling Gallifreyan script next to a medicine bottle on the floor.

"Doctor?" That was uncomfortably close to a squeak. He clears his throat and tries again, louder. "Doctor?"

No reaction. Jack exchanges a worried glance with Rose.

He leans over and shakes the Doctor's shoulder. "Wake u–"

Before he can finish, the Doctor's eyes fly open, but stare right through him. His arms jerk under the blanket as if to push Jack off, but he doesn't seem able to get them to cooperate properly. He struggles to sit up. "Jack? Rose? What the– What's wrong?" His voice is deeper than normal, and barely above a whisper.

"That's what we came to ask you." Jack sits down on the bed and strokes the Doctor's moist forehead. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothin'. 'M fine."

"Then why are you in bed at this hour?" Rose asks.

Jack sees the Doctor's gaze go out of focus the way it does when he's concentrating on his time sense. He blinks a few times, then shakes his head. "What time is it?" he asks.

"If you have to ask that question, you're not all right!" Rose protests, stepping forward.

"Rose, stay back!" Jack says. "We don't want you to catch whatever it is."

"There's nothing wrong with me!" the Doctor repeats stubbornly, but his eyes drift towards the med scanner.

"All right." Rose comes closer. "Shouldn't be any problem with me sittin' with you and giving you a hug then, right?"

The Doctor's eyes widen and he gestures for her to stay away. "Don't!"

Rose stops, but doesn't step back. Her chin is tipped up. Jack could kiss her, except he'd get a slap from her and a strip torn off by his lover.

The Doctor groans. "Fine. May have caught a little virus. Now get lost."

Neither of them moves. The Doctor rolls his eyes. "Rose, please. You need to get out of here."

"What about Jack?"

Jack raises an eyebrow challengingly. He's not moving.

The Doctor sighs. "If Jack catches it, he'll have the sniffles for a day or two. You... well, if you ever want children..."

Rose pales and retreats to the door.

"Don't worry. You're fine. Didn't even touch me. Humans aren't very susceptible to it."

"But Time Lords are?" Jack guesses, earning himself a glare.

"Much more reasonable body chemistry. Even the virus appreciates that." He sniffs and clutches the blanket more closely. "Will you leave me alone now?"

"No." Jack states simply. He looks at Rose. "Would you bring us some tea, hon? And I think there should be some toast left..."

"I'll get it." She leaves.

The Doctor lies back and pulls the blanket up to his chin. "Don't need you hovering about!"

Jack picks up the med scanner and studies the display. "Can you switch this to something I can read?"

The Doctor shakes his head. "You don't need to read it."

There's a ping, and the display dissolves into rows of letters and numbers.

The Doctor mumbles angrily in Gallifreyan, but Jack pats the nearest wall. "Thank you, sexy."

The Doctor abruptly sits up. "Don't call her– Awg." He falls back on the bed with an undignified groan.

Jack gently strokes his cheek, ignoring the glare. "Please. I just want to help." The Doctor opens his mouth to protest, but Jack presses on. "Think about how you'd be acting if our roles were reversed."

The Doctor sighs, and his eyes soften. "What does the scanner say?" He rubs his eyes. "Couldn't read it properly even in Gallifreyan."

Jack reads out the values.

The Doctor grunts. "Got me right and proper."

"How worried do I need to be?"

"Very." He throws him a lopsided grin. "I'm a terrible patient."

Jack laughs. "You don't say." He sobers. "Seriously, though?"

"Gonna run its course. No worse than a bad cold for you apes."

Jack nods. "What can I do?" He picks up the medicine bottle and rolls it in his hand. The label's Gallifreyan – circle, different circle, squiggle, double circle. It's half-full of white tablets, each about the size of a pound coin. "What are these?"

"Sort of... Time Lord aspirin. Cause actual aspirin would kill me."

Jack flinches. "Let's stick to those, then." He looks at his lover. "Are they helping?"

The Doctor shrugs. "Haven't taken any."

"What?" Jack bristles. "Bad enough that you tried your hardest to keep Rose and me from helping you, but you're embarrassed in front of the meds now, too?"

"'S not that. I..." He turns away and mumbles something indistinct into the pillow.

"What was that?"

The Doctor sighs and repeats more clearly, "I'm too bloody shaky to open the damn child lock."

Jack bites the inside of his cheek till he tastes blood. He's glad the Doctor's not looking at him. If he laughs now, the Doctor's going to clam up completely, throw him out, and suffer on his own till this passes. Jack focuses on opening the bottle. "How many do you need?"

"Just one. They dissolve in water."

Jack nods and shakes one out. He goes to the en-suite to get a glass of water. The tablet makes it fizz with rainbow-colored bubbles.

When he returns, the Doctor's half-sitting against the headboard. He's trying to hold his head up but it keeps lolling backward.

Jack sets the glass on the desk and puts his fists on his hips. "Do I have to tie you down to get you to lie still?"

"I'm not an invalid, I'm just– Ouch!" The Doctor's protest is interrupted by the back of his head hitting the edge of the headboard with a sickly thud. "Bugger."

Jack kneels next to him and cups his cheek. "Are you okay?"

"Just a little bump."

"Will you lie down now?"

He shakes his head, then grimaces with pain. "I _hate_ lying around like a soddin' log."

Jack sighs and gently prods the Doctor into a prone position. He gets up to get the glass.

"Don't need you waiting on me hand and foot!" His voice is getting scratchy now.

"I enjoy it," Jack says with perfect honesty. He sits back down with, smiling sweetly. "Come on now, take your meds." He offers the glass, but the Doctor stubbornly turns his head away.

"Don't patronize me."

"Doctor, please." Damn Time Lord pride. The Doctor looks miserable, and deep down Jack is sure he wants to be taken care of, but he can't admit that even to himself. Jack needs to find him an out – a way to give in without admitting weakness.

The Doctor glowers. "An' what do I get if I'm good, _Mummy_? Will you give me a sweetie if I take my medicine?"

"No." Jack scoots closer and places his free hand on the Doctor's crotch. His voice low and sultry, he whispers, "I will give you the best damn blow job you've ever experienced."

The Doctor blinks. His eyes move from Jack's hand on his flies to the one holding the glass. A glimmer of desire crowds out the annoyance.

Jack grins inwardly. Looks like he's found his out. "Oh, I know I've done that before. But I have a few tricks I haven't shown you yet." He draws his index finger along the Doctor's zip. "I can blow your mind. If you take your meds like a good boy."

The Doctor opens his mouth wordlessly.

Jack fights hard to keep down his grin. He props up the Doctor's head and holds the glass to his lips. The Doctor swallows, and keeps sipping till the tall glass is almost empty. Jack smiles and puts it down on the bedside table.

Rose's voice comes from the door. "Tea's ready."

Jack gets up to get it from her. "Thanks, hon. You okay amusing yourself for the rest of the day while I take care of this lump?"

She smiles. "Course. Call if you need me." She gives the Doctor a half wave. "Get better soon. Be good for Jack."

"Who says I want him _good_?" Jack leers.

Rose giggles, and wisely closes the door as she leaves.

Jack sets the tray on the desk. "Want a bite and some tea first, or your reward?"

The Doctor shakes his head. "Can't do that now. Wasn't thinking. Hard for humans to catch this, but com– Er..." His cheeks turn redder than the fever's already made them. "Too risky. Don't want you sick."

Jack seriously doubts that a flu virus, however alien, is likely to be transmitted through oral sex, but there's no point arguing. The Doctor's stubborn and in a rotten mood. Luckily, there's an easy solution. "Come on. Even stupid apes from Rose's time know how to keep that from happening."

The Doctor looks startled. "I don't have any–"

A drawer pops open. It's filled to the brim with square foil packages.

Jack grins. "Thank you, gorgeous."

"Stop flirting with my ship!"

Jack raises an eyebrow. "She deserves some loving. She's had a rough day. You should see what someone did to her control room."

The Doctor winces. He gently touches the wall above his head. "'M sorry. I just felt... Well, I figured I should get to bed while I still could." He smiles at the ceiling sheepishly.

A low, soothing rumble fills the room.

Jack inspects the drawer and chooses a package. It crinkles softly as he puts it in his back pocket. He kneels next to the Doctor on the bed. "So, tea and toast?"

He shakes his head. "Water's about all I can take."

"But you're ready for... ?"

A nod. "Just don't take it personally if I fall asleep during."

Jack grins. "Sleep is the best medicine." He has every intention of making the Doctor sleep like a log. Pity that Rose's tea will get cold, but endorphins and dopamine will keep the fever shivers at bay better than anything else.

"All right then, let's get you out of those jeans." He slowly leans towards the Doctor's crotch. The Doctor's eyes are following his every move. They're still a little bleary and feverish, but Jack likes to think the dilation of the pupils is at least partly due to anticipation rather than fever.

He pops the button, takes the zip between his teeth, and slowly pulls it open, gratified when he feels the Doctor's cock starting to harden. He gently strokes it, teasing the sensitive spot right where the head meets the shaft.

It takes the Doctor longer than usual to harden fully, but once he does, his cock stands as proud and dark as ever. And it's warm. Well, still cool by human standards, but much warmer than usual for the Time Lord. Jack looks up at his lover to make sure he's up for this. The anticipation on the Doctor's face convinces him. Jack's planning to do all the work, after all. He smiles and bends down.

"Jack," the Doctor grinds. "Use the..."

Oh, right. He really doesn't believe he's likely to catch a flu virus from oral sex, and besides the Doctor said its effects on human males weren't that bad, but the Doctor's never going to consent if he doesn't take precautions.

He takes the package from his back pocket and tears it open. A strong fruit smell fills the room.

"Blueberry?" The Doctor frowns. "You want my cock to taste like a muffin?"

Jack grins. "There's banana ones if you ever want to return the favor."

The amused twinkle in the Doctor's eyes turns the joke into a possibility. Jack chuckles. He prefers bare skin, of course, and they don't usually need protection, but if the Doctor wants to experiment with his cock in a banana wrapper sometime, he'll gladly put up with the smell.

He positions the condom on the Doctor's tip. Then he bends down and closes his lips around it, pushing down very slowly. The blueberry taste is almost overwhelming at first. He feels the silky material unroll gently, clinging to the Doctor's skin and becoming as good as undetectable the second it warms. Did they really use to make these out of simple silicone? Surely that would have smelled weird and felt weirder? He wonders if he can ask Rose about that sometime without getting smacked.

When he reaches the root, he gently tightens his lips until he hears the Doctor stifle a gasp, then he pulls up, letting his tongue slide along the underside of the Doctor's cock. The blueberry flavor is the perfect mixture of sweet and tangy – it almost tastes real. And though Jack misses the Doctor's usual taste – salty, rich, and with a hint of something unique Jack could never find a term for – he has to admit the blueberry is a fun change. Maybe they should play around with flavored lubes sometime.

Jack considers. He promised mindblowing, but the Doctor doesn't look like he can stay awake for much longer, so all techniques relying on a slow build are out of the question. And he promised new, so anything they've done before is out, too. And the Doctor'll be worried about the condom, so nothing with teeth. Which leaves... He grins, knowing fully well that the Doctor can feel it. His lover's cock twitches in his mouth.

Jack sits up and fishes for the medicine bottle. "Are these poisonous to me?" he asks.

The Doctor blinks. "Huh? No. Don't do anything for humans, but you'd have to take, oh, at least seventy-five before they'd even make you sick. Why?"

Jack winks and walks to the desk. He half-fills a cup with the tea – hot, but not scalding – and drops two tablets into it. He grins as it starts to fizz and returns to the Doctor. Wiggling his eyebrows in a deliberately cheesy manner, he tips the hot, fizzing fluid and the tablets into his mouth – the salty taste of the medicine makes the tea almost unpalatable, but he bravely ignores that – and quickly closes his lips around the Doctor’s cock, careful to not let more than a few drops spill. He looks into his lover's face and slowly pushes down.

The Doctor's not looking at him. He has his head thrown back, his lips moving wordlessly, hands grasping the sheets. Jack grins, and starts twirling his tongue around the Doctor's shaft.

The tingling sensation on his tongue and palate is irritating, but he wishes he could feel it on his cock. He tries to imagine it, and the thought alone makes him harden in his jeans. He cups the Doctor's balls gently and starts stroking his lips up and down the Doctor's shaft.

The fruity taste where his tongue is touching the condom is in curious contrast with the salty tea. Jack can smell his lover's arousal and feel the Doctor's blood pumping against his lips. It's clearly taking all the Doctor's concentration to keep from writhing.

As much fun as this is, the Doctor's ill and exhausted and needs sleep, so Jack decides to take it up another notch. He relaxes his throat muscles to take the Doctor down whole. His lover's hips begin to lift off the bed, but Jack holds him down easily – one advantage of the Doctor being the weaker one for once. He can almost feel the Doctor keeping himself from coming by sheer willpower.

Jack waits, counting to 4.5 in his head. Just when the Doctor's beginning to relax, Jack breathes in through his nose – and starts humming. He begins on a low pitch. The Doctor's hands are in his hair, grasping, stroking, fondling desperately. He picks up the pitch, and starts working the Doctor's shaft with the soft underside of his tongue. It's a matter of seconds now.

The Doctor whimpers – a sound he's sure to deny later – and Jack can feel his balls contract in his hand. His cock spasms a few times. Jack expects the taste of sperm to mix with the tea, but a tinge of blueberry reminds him of the condom. He gently keeps playing his tongue up and down, helping the Doctor ride out his climax.

Once the Doctor stills, Jack pulls back and swallows the fizzy tea. He moves up to kiss his lover. "Did I promise too much?"

The Doctor smiles goofily "Never."

"Damn right." He gently slips the condom off the Doctor's cock and chucks it in the wastebasket. He doesn't bother zipping him back into his jeans; instead, he simply pulls up the blanket and tucks him in.

The Doctor yawns, and has to blink to keep his eyes open. He weakly reaches towards Jack's crotch. "What about you?"

Jack shakes his head. "I'm okay. You need rest." He's painfully hard, but he can have a quick wank when the Doctor throws him out to go to sleep. Which, judging from previous experience, should be any minute now. Then he'll go and tidy up the control room.

The Doctor yawns again, and finally lets his eyes drop shut. He reaches for Jack's hand and entwines their fingers. "There're more blankets in the closet if you're cold."

Jack hesitates. Does this mean...

The Doctor cracks one eye open. "Only have the one pillow, though. Don't hog it."

Jack feels the corners of his mouth curve up in a smile threatening to split his face. "No hogging the pillow. Check." He goes to get another blanket – more for the Doctor's benefit than his own - and lies down next to the Doctor, careful to bed his head on the outermost corner of the pillow. He pulls up the blankets over both of them. With a mental apology to the TARDIS, he settles in.

The Doctor shuffles closer, turning his nose into the crook of Jack's shoulder. "Warm," he explains, and drops off before he can even start to feel embarrassed by the admission.

Jack's wide awake – he got up less than two hours ago after all – but he doesn't mind lying here. Nor does he mind the unsatisfied erection slowly subsiding in his boxers. He's in the Doctor's bedroom, allowed to guard his sick lover while he sleeps.

If it weren't so damn callous to say this about something that's made his lover weak and miserable, Jack would call this virus one of the best things that have ever happened to him.

Watching the blissful smile on the Time Lord's sleeping face, Jack's not at all sure the Doctor would disagree.

The End

**Author's Note:**

>  _Prompt: blue – 75 – worry – tea_


End file.
